CHAPTER ELEVEN
After her disastrous coffee date, Faith returned to the bookstore. She worked for a bit but finally broke down and called her go-to, call-in psychic Amara.
“I should have known,” Faith said after explaining what happened with her blind date. “My horoscope said I’d be disappointed today.”
“He’s probably a Leo,” Amara said. “That would explain the mismatch. The moon’s not in the right phase for you to connect with a Leo.”
“I haven’t connected with any one of any sign for ages.” Except for that zing she felt when she kissed Nick. What had she been thinking with that move? If she had time at the end of the call, she’d bring it up with Amara.
“You should try something new. Go out with someone totally different from your usual type.”
“What? Ugly and stupid?” Faith said. “My standards are already at an all-time low.”
“Is there anyone who’s asked you out that you’ve dismissed?”
Denver, from the gas station, popped into her head. “There is one guy from town. He sent flowers a few weeks ago and asks me out periodically. He’s definitely not my type.”
“Perfect. Go out with him,” Amara said triumphantly.
Faith groaned. Surely, there had to be some sort of attraction. “I’ll think about it. There’s something else.” She swore Amara to secrecy and told her about the letter from her mom.
“Wow, that’s huge. I’m getting the feeling you should tell Eddie. He has a right to know. I don’t see that it will change anything between the two of you, but honesty is vital.”
Faith had been leaning that way too. She just wasn’t sure about the timing. Should she let her dad finish grieving first? Or just rip it off like a Band-Aid and get all the drama over with at once?
“Knock, knock.” Nick stuck his head in the door.
“Awk,” Faith squealed. “Gotta go.”
“But your twenty minutes isn’t up.”
“Rain check.” She hung up.
“Sorry,” Nick said. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t. It was nothing.” He wouldn’t understand.
“It’s obviously something , or you wouldn’t be so defensive.” He raised an eyebrow.
Shoot. How did he read people like that? Must be a cop thing. “Just my psychic.”
“I’m sorry. Your what?” He cocked an ear as if he hadn’t heard her.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to figure out what to do about my dad.”
“And what’s wrong with simply thinking through the pros and cons and making a decision all by yourself?”
“Sometimes it’s nice to have a little direction. Maybe I should wait until my moon’s in Jupiter. Or at least until my horoscope predicts a good time.”
“You can’t let an astrological fortune cookie rule your life.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She picked up the envelope with her dad’s name on it and flipped it around in her hand. “I should just get it over with.”
“Attagirl,” he said. “Sorry again to bother you, but Brandon said I could ask you about ordering the fourth book in a series I started?”
“Oh, yeah. Wow, you’re really burning through those.”
“Got a lot of time on my hands,” he muttered. “Also, I noticed you don’t have anything trendy or any bestsellers from this decade. What’s up with that?” He leaned heavily on his cane, and she wondered if she should invite him to sit.
“That was my mom’s idea of keeping the store ‘quaint’ and ‘iconic.’ Unfortunately, it’s also a way to keep it ‘poor.’ I’ve already ordered some popular, mass-market stuff. Should be here today actually.”
He nodded. “Ideas that sound good on paper don’t always turn out to be in practice.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“You mind?” He tilted his head toward the chair.
“Of course not. Sorry, I should have offered sooner.” He sat gingerly and rubbed his thigh. “How’s the leg healing?”
“Not great. Sometimes it just spontaneously tightens up, and I gotta get weight off of it.”
“I’d bring up yoga again, but I know how you feel about it. If you don’t want to come to my class, there are videos and books that could teach you.”
“Pass,” he said. “So, what’s your question?”
She shrugged, set the letter aside, and sat at her desk. “What’s it like on the outside? Is it any easier to meet people?”
He chuckled. “You mean men? The internet not putting up its best and brightest?”
She reached for the deck of tarot cards and shuffled them absentmindedly. “Yes, Nick. I mean men. I hate online dating as much as anyone, but how else am I supposed to meet someone? Other than leaving GVF.”
“I’m no love doctor, but I think it’s tough no matter where you live. To find someone that suits you, that is.”
“I want more than someone to suit me,” she said. “I want a man who’s crazy in love with me and me with him. Crazy, stupid, over-the-top in love. You know what I mean?”
“Not really. And you’re setting the bar pretty high.”
“But why settle for less? I’m wondering if I should just pack it all in and move to greener pastures. I love Green Valley Falls but don’t see how I’ll ever find what I want here.”
“It might be easier to meet people in a big city, but it’s no easier to find the perfect person. If that’s even a thing.”
“Is that why you left?” She drew a card and had to hide her surprise when the Lovers stared back at her. She didn’t need the fine print for this card’s explanation. And she pulled it with Nick sitting right in front of her.
“No. I mean, a sea of women was a bonus. But it was the job that got me out.” He paused. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She crammed the card back into the deck and pushed out Amara’s words. You should date someone totally different from your usual type . Certainly that didn’t mean Nick. Did it?
“What’d that card say? You’re not casting spells, are you?”
“Very funny. I found these in a drawer and am just messing around. I don’t even know what most of ’em mean.” She set the deck aside. “So, when do you go back?”
“To work? I’m not sure yet. To Boston? As soon as I can drive. Gotta wait till my leg quits cramping up for no reason and make sure I have the strength to brake. That reminds me. Did Hope text you about using your car to take me to PT this afternoon?”
“Yes. I told her it was fine. You’re a brave man, Nick Walker.”
“Driving with Hope or riding in that pink matchbox car?”
“Faith?” The call came from down the hallway. It was Tess.
Faith jumped at her name, and a shot of guilt flashed through her. Having anything to do with Tess’s brother was a terrible idea. The very thought of it must be quashed.
Tess stopped short upon entering, eyes darting between Faith and Nick. “Hey, Bro. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I was asking Faith about ordering a book for me.”
Tess was her best friend, and Faith could tell finding them together was unsettling, though she couldn’t imagine why.
“You ready to eat?” Tess asked. “I’m starving but don’t have much time. Karla’s?”
“Sure,” Faith said.
“You in?” Tess said to Nick, who shrugged.
“I could eat.”
The diner was a couple of doors down, and within minutes, they were seated.
“Howdy, y’all,” Edna greeted. “Long time no see, Nick Walker. Good to have you back.”
“Just home for a bit, ma’am,” Nick said. “But it’s nice to see you too.”
Edna took their orders and left three glasses of water.
“I can’t believe Edna still works here,” Nick whispered. “She’s gotta be sixty-something by now.”
“Mr. Norris keeps trying to get her to retire, but she says she doesn’t have anywhere else to be,” Faith said.
Nick periodically massaged his thigh.
“Is your leg bugging you?” Tess asked. “Does it hurt?”
“It’s fine. Just gets tight and throbs sometimes.”
“Yo-ga,” Faith sang.
“Who’s that?” Mr. Huckabee yelled from four tables over. “Why’s he limpin’?”
Nick groaned. “I see Ralph Huckabee still hasn’t gotten hearing aids. He needed them when I left ten years ago. He must be full-on deaf by now.”
“That’s Nicky Walker,” Edna said. “He got shot and his leg’s sore.”
“He’s got a whore?”
Faith and Tess giggled behind their hands. Nick slunk into his chair.
Edna threw up her hands. “I don’t know why I bother talkin’ to you.” She raised her voice and annunciated. “I said sore . His leg’s sore from bein’ shot.”
“Shot?” Bushy white eyebrows reached for the ceiling.
“He’s an FBI agent.” Edna sighed. “You knew that.”
“Oh, right,” Mr. Huckabee said. “Is he comin’ to the Fall Festival?”
“I’d rather get shot again than listen to this another second,” Nick mumbled.
“Well, I have no idea,” Edna said. “Why wouldn’t he? Everyone will be there.”
The Fall Festival was how the town celebrated the end of the summer tourist season. They would flock back in autumn when the leaves turned, and for winter sports and holiday breaks. But there were a few brief weeks in September and October when the locals had GVF to themselves.
“ Are you coming?” Tess asked Nick.
He shrugged. “If I’m still around, I guess.”
Edna brought their food, and Faith immediately went for the bacon.
“Sorry if this is stereotypical,” Nick said. “But why’d I think you’d be a vegetarian?”
“Oh. She tried that once,” Tess said. “It was a nightmare for me. No protein makes Faith pret-ty grump-y.”
“Hey. It was no picnic for me either,” Faith said, licking grease from her fingertips. “Longest two days of my life. Turns out I love meat more than principles.”
He shook his head and chuckled. “Oh, Tess. I got a ride to physical therapy this afternoon, so you don’t have to take me.”
Faith stole a french fry off Nick’s plate and from the look he shot her, you’d think she spit in his eye.
“Hey,” he griped.
“It’s just a fry,” Faith said.
“Yeah, my fry.”
“Nick’s very protective of his food,” Tess said.
“I guess,” Faith muttered. “Here.” She threw a pickle onto his plate. “Now we’re even. Happy?”
“With who?” Tess went right back to the conversation.
“Hope.”
“Faith’s sister, Hope?”
“Yeah. She needs the drive time, and I need a ride. It’s a win-win.”
“You’re okay with this?” Tess asked Faith.
“You mean her driving my car? Sure. She’s a pretty good driver.”
“Whatever.” Tess sipped her soda. “Hey, Faith, I’m off tomorrow. You wanna get nine holes in before you go to work?”
“Sure,” Faith said. “I have a million other things to do, but why not?”
They finished eating, and Faith returned to the bookstore. She jumped online and ordered the book Nick had requested, several vampire romances, and a few copies each of what was billed as “what’s hot now” on the website.
Next, she started in on another drawer of data. Filing hadn’t been her mother’s strong suit, and Faith kept finding invoices and balance sheets in random places.
She dedicated the rest of the day to nailing down the last year’s financial data. Getting a handle on what came in and what went out was vital to figuring out where to go from here.
That evening, Faith arrived home to find her father in the kitchen, attempting to cook. Water boiled over onto the stove, and smoke seeped from the oven. She left the door open and turned on the overhead fan, hoping to avoid the smoke detector.
“Whatcha cookin’?” she asked.
“Oh, Faith. Thank goodness. I was trying to make spaghetti and garlic bread, but things got away from me.”
She smiled. At least he was trying. “Let’s turn this down a bit,” she said, lowering the stove temperature. “And what have we got in here?”
“Garlic bread. Did I set it too high?”
When Faith opened the oven, black smoke billowed out, setting off the fire alarm. She picked up the hot pads, pulled out the charred loaf, and flung it into the yard. Then she grabbed a flexible plastic cutting board and fanned the air under the alarm. After a minute, it stopped. She turned off the oven and shut the door. “We don’t need all those carbs anyway.”
Together, they salvaged what they could and sat down to dinner. Hope had gone school shopping with a friend, saying she’d be home late. Faith prayed that was the truth and not just cover for some nefarious rendezvous with that troublemaker boy she’d been hanging around with.
It was just as well that Hope was out. Faith needed some time to break the news to her dad.
“You shaved,” she said, digging into soggy pasta covered in jarred marinara sauce.
“And showered. I’m trying, Faith, really.”
“I know you are, Dad.” She set down her fork. “Look, I’ve got some pretty serious news and figured now’s as good a time as any to tell you.”
He looked up expectantly, and all of a sudden, she chickened out, unable to say the words to his face.
“Well, actually, it’s something I found. From Mom. This was in her desk drawer.” She pulled the envelope out of her purse and handed it to her father. At the sight of her mother’s distinct pink stationery, his eyes filled with tears.
Faith’s chest tightened with worry as she watched him read the short letter before gently laying it on the table, his face expressionless.
“You knew?”
“I mildly suspected,” he corrected. “A few things here and there. The fact that you were supposedly three weeks premature but weighed over eight pounds at birth was my first clue.”
“You never acted like you doubted.”
“Because it didn’t matter to me. I love your mom, and I love you. You’re my daughter, Faith. But if you decide to find this fellow, I understand.”
“Oh, Dad,” Faith said, taking both his hands in hers. “Even if I do look him up, it wouldn’t be to replace you. You must know that.”
“I do.” He nodded. “I figured this day might come, but never really thought about how I’d handle it.”
“Are you mad at Mom? For not telling you?”
He paused for a second and shrugged. “Wouldn’t do any good. It is what it is. Are you?”
“Not mad, just, I don’t know…wondering. Why didn’t she say anything before she passed? What if she hadn’t written these letters? Would we have ever known?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But she must have had her reasons.”
“I suppose.”
They ate in silence for a minute, before her dad spoke again.
“So, I made dinner tonight to say thank you. You’ve been so great since your mom got sick, caring for everyone and dealing with the household stuff. But it’s time I step up. Starting now. As nice as it’s been having you here, if you want to move back to your place, I can handle Hope, and making dinner, and taking care of things.”
“That’s great, Dad. I’m happy to hear it. I won’t be able to go just yet though. I kinda sublet my bedroom to Tess’s brother. Maybe we can work on how to use the oven before I go?”
He laughed. “I won’t deny my cooking skills could use some improvement.”
While they finished dinner and cleaned up, Faith told him about her plans for Page Turners.
“Those are great ideas. Have you stopped doing hair then?”
“For now. I have a few pre-booked appointments left, but basically, yes. At least until I get things under control at the bookstore.”
She would keep the door open to return to hairstyling, but the more she worked at the store, the more she kind of liked it.
By the time Faith climbed into bed, Hope still hadn’t come home or answered her texts. That was troubling but not alarming. She was sixteen and enjoying her last few days of summer before school started.
Faith was thrilled and relieved that her father was finally ready to reengage. She was also glad she’d come clean about the letters. With those couple of burdens lifted, she found sleep easily that night.